Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Spell

just a little madness
that was what took me in one gulp
I thought it over, mulled it
then I over thought
my follicles got hot
a heavy mist on my brow
over sensing danger now
skulking my dim interior
soon, I know, it will pass
was any of it more
than a braying ass?
I did make a few maps
of the long way home

JM

Friday, May 29, 2015

Poem

Room for a short one
The end of a meal
It will have to be delicate
And a little flakey

JM

Saturday, April 04, 2015

recreate

Don't fall again
my strength is failing
Don't tempt me to catch you
we'll both land hard
My life time is moving
further behind
This lucky time won't last
and I won't stumble going past
Let's just enjoy together
whatever is left
Remember the sunshine
The seasons that went
So when we remember
it will be dreaming well spent


JM

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Once

When dew was heavy
On spring green shrubs
Streetlights sparkled the droplets
We walked alone
Hand in hand
A soundless song
Played along
To the rhythm of our steps
How can such sweetness
Be unrepeatable


JM

Friday, July 18, 2014

Half Step

several attempts collided
Having a canceling effect
Each one stuck in the gate
Another chance to meditate
Find a spinning core inside
Warm with friction
Catching on life and
Woven by foggy lenses to
sweep the slight dust away.
With lids at rest
Another start is starting
Sparks on tinder
Just a little smoke
A little breath
and we're burning again.

JM

Thursday, July 17, 2014

blow up

I have a fear of exploding
Along with all normal fears
The government, the boogeyman
Or woman
But mostly exploding. Its irrational.
I'm not strapped with TNT
No gallon jar of ethanol blend
Still I picture myself in little
Pieces,  stuck to buildings
I just couldn't take that
Maybe I wouldn't explode
All the way, two legs supporting
A shredded torso...
my blinking head nearby
Possibly thinking "Explosion
I was afraid of that."

JM

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

other wise

Too thick a stew
Rushing through what stays
Some truth about reality
Or another fleeting phase
Carved in place by deeds
And seeds of thoughtful plotting
What still flows thick
and what words stick
Is a mystery to me.
 
JM